My Son, My Lover
by WillyWonkaTastesLike
Summary: After the divorce, Mort's teenaged son Johnny is depressed and hurtles into a bad-boy lifestyle.  He has his son come live with him, away from Ted.  When "Shooter" appears, Mort is convinced he must protect Johnny.  Will paternal feelings go too far?


**_Synopsis_: This is a plot based on a story I had taken from the film "_Secret Window_" with Johnny Depp and Maria Bello. In this setting, Mort Rainey and his wife had a son Jonathan (Johnny) who was sixteen years old when the separation began. Mort and Johnny are living together in the lakeside house when "Shooter" arrives. Johnny is under the impression that Shooter actually exists, and becomes scared and vulnerable when his father explains that there is an unstable man after them. Mort becomes slightly paranoid about the boy leaving the house, but Johnny would rather die than go back to live with his mother and Ted. Shooter seems to only appear to Mort...**

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_Already, the relationship between Mort and Johnny is extremely close, but something changes, and the two begin to look to each other for physical comfort. Things go further than expected._

_**IMPORTANT**: Don't like, don't read._

**_Rated M for: Incestual situations between a father and son, language, peril, some violence, tense family situations._**

_Want to see a picture of **Johnny Rainey**? This is actually a photo of seventeen year old Johnny Depp, but it works since Jonathan is Mort's son._

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**~Chapter 1 "Just leave"~**

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"Johnny, hun, Ted has a point. You're really misbehaving."

The teenager looked up from his seat on the edge of his unmade bed, meeting slightly reddened, hung-over eyes with his mother, then her boyfriend Ted who stood expectantly in the doorway of his room. He loved his mother, but he hated her advice. He hated Ted, and also hated his advice. Double loss for that bastard. Johnny's bare toes fidgeted in the carpet, and he sat bent forward with his forearms on his thighs, blood boiling. No response came.

"Johnny." Mrs. Rainey said again, this time softer. She really was trying, trying so hard to keep everything together.

"_Jonathan_, your mother's talking to you." came the calm yet pressingly irritating voice of Ted. The last and only person to call him Jonathan was his father Mort Rainey. The sound his voice echoed off of Ted's statement..

"Don't fuckin' call me that." Johnny snapped, raising his head and giving the man the evil eye.

"My God Johnny watch your language." Mrs. Rainey said in an exasperated, almost pleading tone. She pinched the bridge of her nose, blonde wisps of hair falling past her chin. "Don't call him that Ted, please." She was trying so hard. Ted raised his hands in a "just trying to help" manner, an annoyed expression crossing his face.

"Neither of you know anything!" Johnny spat, his short brown hair in a furious mess of bedhead; he pointed to Ted, "Especially _you_, so just shut up already. I haven't even done anything to either of you! Jesus christ, just get the hell away from me." The boy put his head in his hands, letting out an angry groan.

"Johnny, your mother and I are concerned. You're turning into some kind of...delinquent!"

Johnny shot upright from his bed. "Oh, now you're calling me a delinquent? What the hell do you want? You think you can just waltz in here and be my father, don't you?"

"I know I'm not your fa-

"I don't care about your _stupid_ golfing and your _dumb-ass_ road trips! And don't you dare tell me what I can and can't do! I can do whatever the_ fuck_ I want! Stop acting like you've known me since I was five, you don't know me at all! I don't give a damn if I'm not the son you wanted, maybe you should go get your own wife and your own fucking kids!"

"_STOP IT_!" Mrs. Rainey shrieked, not able to take the escalating tension any longer. She covered her mouth, stifling a sob. Ted's expression was frozen in a state of slight shock, yet never giving up that arrogant look about his eyes. He glanced up at the ceiling, as if pondering something, then looked at the furious teenager one last time. He shook his head. "That's fine then Johnny. You go ahead and go down that road. When you decide not to make yourself into a low class drifter, your mom and I will be waiting for you."

Ted turned to leave the doorway, but stopped, looking behind his shoulder, then turning on his heel again. "Or, you know what, we may not be waiting for you. Maybe you just want to think about _that_, Johnny."

_So angry...so...angry... Please, make this stop..._

"Ted!" Mrs. Rainey gasped sharply, then facing her son. "Honey, he's just angry, you pushed him. Of course we'll be here for you, it's just-

"I...pushed _him_?" Johnny snarled, his fists trembling at his sides. A single tear slid from his left eye, then his right; tears that burned like fire. "Just get out...everyone leave me alone...get out..._GET OUT! GET OUT!_" A pain erupted in his left foot, the room began to swim before his eyes. He was screaming. Screaming as loud as he could. _Go away...just go away...please..._

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"Wah!" Johnny yelled, bolting upright in bed. His heart felt like it was going to leap from his chest; he ran a hand through his hair, a little damp with a cold sweat. His breath forced in and out of his lungs like he'd just run a marathon. He recognized the pain in his foot as a muscle cramp, and threw back the covers to try and massage the pain away. "Shit..." Johnny breathed, his body trembling in the aftermath of the nightmare. Remembering just exactly where he was, that he was not in his old house anymore helped to relax the teenager.

"Jesus, you okay?" came a voice from the office loft just outside the small bedroom. Mort Rainey poked his head in, golden brown hair extremely mussed. "I heard you carrying on in here, but when you yelled I thought I'd better check on you."

"Sorry." Johnny sighed, shaking his head and running another hand through his hair. "I just, uh...went to bed thinking about...you know, Mom and...Ted and stuff." He looked down at the navy sheets as a distraction, feeling embarrassed. Having late night outbursts was not exactly something he felt comfortable with.

"Yeah." Mort nodded, coming over and sitting down on the edge of the queen bed. He took off his reading glasses and pushed a shock of hair behind his ear, somehow always looking handsome despite his ancient striped robe and bed-head look. "Nothing wrong with that, Johnny. The adults in your life...have really put you through the ringer, even me. I'm just...sorry about that."

"You weren't in the dream, Dad. You never are...I mean, I don't know. I just don't think you've really done anything wrong."

"Everyone has, Johnny-

"I don't blame you for anything, Dad."

The young brown eyes met the hazel green orbs of the writer, and he reached out to place a hand on the youth's bare leg, patting it, reminiscing in the bittersweet happiness of the day his son had come to live with him...

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**_Want more? Please review and/or add to Story watch. I need to know that at least a few people want another chapter. (:_**

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**_This story is going to skip around a little bit, so the next chapter will probably be about the first week of Johnny coming to live with Mort._**


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